


Handmade

by AineTheSolarGoddess



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam knows Everything, Anathema is her Grandsomethingma's Grandsomethingdaughter, Aziraphale is a Ray of Sunshine, Barbecue invite as an excuse to sunbathe, Crowley is a bit of a blind clueless idiot, Everyone is blinking (literally), Fluff and Humor, M/M, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19711234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AineTheSolarGoddess/pseuds/AineTheSolarGoddess
Summary: When Apocalypse is out of the door, and there is no Heaven or Hell looming on you, no wonder you want to spend a day or two (or a week) at your friends' cottage. Especially if you're invited. Especially if there is barbecue and excessive amount of sunlight involved, and you're a snake.Especially if the angel smiles at you like that.Handmade wings idea was taken fromhereI'm sorry. I couldn't resist :DRating is for one single f-word, since I have no idea if it's okay to put general there~





	Handmade

Lower Tadfield has still been full of Love. Too bad demons can't feel it. 

Aziraphale sighed in exasperation. 

"What?" 

Angel blinked.

"What "what", my dear girl?" He smiled at Anathema who was standing at the newest barbecue... erm... _machine_ she got from her mother as a birthday present. The thing was so big it needed two people to decently operate, and so modern Newt was chased away at, like, first thirty seconds of its new stainless-steel-and-chromium life.

So it left Crowley and Aziraphale as possible helpers. They were grateful guests, after all. The problem was Crowley has run away faster than lightning, shouting something about proper sunbathing, proper temperatures and his proper faith into Aziraphale's abilities. Anathema laughed so loud at angel's facial expression back then that it lured in a company of them. The _Them_ them. Adam and his friends. And Dog, it would be too impolite not to mention.

They rode in the yard on their bikes, curious, and stayed.

Because let's be honest - who could have resisted the temptation?

No, nobody, if you asked the expert.

"Nothing, no-thi-ng..." Anathema sing-songed after a while, greasing sizzling steaks with a new portion of green oil. "Almost there. Will you call everyone, please?"

Aziraphale nodded, more than ready to get away from that hell-spawn of a machine. Too big, too modern. Yeah.

Angel went into the house through the back-door. Newt was sitting at the kitchen table, sullen-looking, and fiddling with his uniform's collar. 

[He worked at the Base by the way. Yup, that exact Base, and even that exact room he and Anathema averted mass-destruction in. Who would have guessed. God works in mysterious ways, really]

"Don't be so upset, my boy." Aziraphale smiled, "Believe me, I wanted you there more than anything."

Newt snorted. Then sighed, "Ready?"

"Yes, almost done. You can proceed to your wife now. Do you possibly know where the children are?"

"Oh yeah!" Somehow Newt's smile turned into a slightly crooked, but kind smirk as if he was trying not to laugh, "Playing upstairs. With Crowley."

Angel blinked. Once. Twice.

"Playing with... Crowley?"

"You'll see." Smirk grew wider. "He is a natural at entertaining kids."

Aziraphale blinked once more. "Crowley?.. A natur... Wha..?"

"You'll see." Newt repeated and laughed.

He pulled a stack of plates out of the cupboard and trailed outside. Angel gulped nervously, shook his head a bit, amused and surprised beyond belief. This was a thing he definitely needed to check.

The Them were swarming at the open door upstairs like a... flock (?)... hive (?)... swarm (er...) of butterflies, light and fluttering and snickering. Even Adam. Even Dog. 

"Just look at him!" The only girl of Them, Pepper, exclaimed in a strangely strained voice, like she had been chuckling for a long time already and didn't want it anymore.

Adam peeked in the door once more and smiled. "I can't believe he hadn't even woken up."

"He is a snake." A boy in glasses said, whose name Aziraphale was ashamed enough not to remember, "They slumber deeply in the direct sunlight. So, no wonder."

"Who knew this handmade thingy would come in handy today, right?" Adam's eyes were glinting so mischievously there was no doubt who exactly knew what. "You sure Elizabeth won't need it anymore?"

He turned to the fourth member of their small gang. The boy, slightly greasy with chocolate, answered:

"Nah. Her python is too big for it anyway."

Aziraphale coughed. The gang jumped.

"Barbecue's ready, kids.." Angel squinted one eye, ready to ask...

But he hadn't managed to.

The giggling mess flooded the stairs and disappeared in the distance.

"Oh Mother Almighty..." Aziraphale murmured. "I hope, he is still alive at least."

He stepped in the room.

The room was lit brightly. Beams of sunlight descended from the opened curtains, creating lovely warm puddles of yellow heat on the floor.

In one of them was Crowley.

In his snake form. Coiled and sleeping soundly, warmed and relaxed and...

Aziraphale tilted his head. Then shook it lightly. Then miracled himself some spectacles, as if he couldn't believe his own eyes. He stood there for several seconds, unmoving. And then his hands flew to his mouth in a futile attempt to suppress a snicker.

Crowley had _wings_.

Well, yeah, he definitely had. But not in this form. And still...

Small, intricately made, elegant and absolutely gorgeous raven-black artificial pair of wings was trembling slightly with demon's hissing breath, attached to his long serpentine body by something similar to a sport wrist band or a scrunchy.

It looked so utterly ridiculous, and cute, and...

Aziraphale couldn't make it. Wily demon, cruel abomination, hell-spawn. Yeah, right.

Tiny little giggles were escaping his covered mouth, grace and joy shone through his open eyes, filling the room with happiness and love. Oh yes, he _loved_ this stupid snake, so much, so... long. He couldn't but confessed himself at least in that, after the Armageddon't.

Crowley blinked slowly several times, yawned and raised his head.

"Angel?" His voice in Aziraphale's head was a little slurry and clueless. It was so unbearably cute that the Guardian of the Eastern Gate (Closed), the Warrior with a Flaming Sword (Lost), couldn't help but laugh some more, not even asking himself why his Adversary (Former) woke up almost instantly at his sight, but not at The Them.

* * * * *

Waking up was always not an easy task for Crowley. Since the demon got himself a habit of sleeping, he... No, even earlier. Since he got this form. Snakes are heavy sleepers, per se. Especially when the sun is involved.

Especially when they feel perfectly safe and secure.

Yes. With that witch, her derpy husband, with Aziraphale here, and without Above and Below, this house felt _safe_. Felt exactly like the Bookshop.

Felt like _home_.

No wonder his sunbathing procedures turned out to be a bit of a slumber. He thought he heard kids laughing nearby but he wasn't sure, and it didn't feel dangerous anyway. So he didn't even bother.

Something short and loud, and _oh so beautiful_ tore him from sleep. He blinked and yawned, not quite understanding yet what he was hearing or seeing. The voice was familiar though. "Angel?"

He couldn't properly speak in his snake form but he was so lazy to turn back that he prompted to mind-messaging instead.

That sound again. Hm? Crowley opened his eyes properly and looked to the left. Angel was standing at the open door, bent and tense, trying not to...

"What are you laughing at?" Demon wondered in surprise.

Aziraphale _giggled_ helplessly again and pointed his finger at something on Crowley's back. Flabbergasted, the Serpent tensed his coils, understood it was definitely _something_ there and finally turned his head backwards.

"WHAT THE...?!!" If you ever wanted to see an embarrassed and bewildered snake, here you go.

"Don't break it, my dear, it's Adam's." Angel said in a strained but joyous voice. "You wouldn't want it, would you?" 

"What is... What the..." Crowley spluttered, not tearing his eyes from the... accessory. "What is this... THING?"

"Wings." Angel shrugged as if nothing extraordinary happened at all. "You know... hand- Handmade."

"Handmade." Crowley repeated, skeptically. Apparently, his skepticism was hilarious for heavenly lot.

Aziraphale burst out laughing, and there were crystal-clear tears gathering in the corners of his eyelids. There were also small wrinkles on his forehead, and squinted eyes radiated joy and excitement - as if he was looking at something... someone...

Crowley suddenly felt hot. Well, hotter than he was before. "The hell..." Demon narrowed his eyes and mumbled, "Seriously."

"I think it's pretty sweet, my dear." Aziraphale stooped slightly and whispered, "That you can just lie here, enjoying your life. Trusting people around you so much you don't even have your snake reflexes to kick in. Without Heaven and Hell. Without constant supervision. With us. With me."

The sudden shiver, thrilling and trembling somewhere within him, made Crowley gape at angel dazedly. It had already been almost a year after the Apocawasn't, but this exact thought hasn't even occurred in his mind. Well, not fully realized at least. They were finally _free_ , ha? Free.

"And more than that..." Angel chirped excitedly, humor in his voice, "You look like a small plush toy replica of Quetzalcoatl with these. It's adorable."

Crowley groaned in despair. Well, not literally, but in his mind. And turned his head to angel.

Aziraphale was beaming.

Like, literally too. Not only his lips were stretched in a lopsided smile but he also emanated some kind of (holy?) light Crowley had never seen before. It made his cold blood blast, burn and run. Run somewhere far away. Alpha Centauri, probably.

The demon blinked - once, twice, brilles moving slowly. Nothing changed. Mild, slightly pinkish light was still there.

"Angel."

"Yes, dear." Aziraphale cooed.

Wait, what? Six thousand years on this bloody blue ball and he'd never heard angel _coo_. What the He... Hea... Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Ssstop it, pleasse."

"Stop what, my dear?" Angel smiled wider (if that's even physically possible!).

"Ssshining!" Crowley blurted, darting his forked tongue out like he was probing the air around for excessive heat.

It was fucking there.

Sweet (somehow), warm (who knew) and absolutely, breathtakingly wonderful (what). 

"Oh you..." Angel flushed slightly as if Crowley had been what? Complimenting him? Er... And stepped forward. "Come here. Anathema is waiting for us. Barbecue is ready."

Demon wanted to flinch away, scared of the brightness and... well... holiness a little. But nothing actually happened. Nothing even felt wrong. Only soothing warmth and...

"Let me help you, darling." Aziraphale gently raised his dark coils from the floor. "With your lovely _handmade_ "accessory".

Crowley wanted to snap. To hiss at the sarcasm in angel's voice, though there wasn't one actually, only light teasing maybe. But that isn't the reason he didn't do it.

Angel was humming softly, standing there dressed in his usual tweed, his usual bow-tie, his usual blonde wisps sticking in every possible direction. His hands steady. His smile unwavering. His love unbearably and unmistakably... _visible_.

Oh, if only all Revelations in history had been like this one!

The Serpent's mouth opened with nothing but a helpless hiss. 

"Everything alright, Crowley?" Aziraphale dropped now-removed winged accessory on the nearest table and put two fingers under demon's chin, scratching slightly. _Like he's been doing for millennia now._ Crowley's mind nearly short-circuited. Revelation, yeah. "I haven't hurt you, have I?"

"No, angel..." Crowley murmured softly, gently, with his own human lips. He was now standing in a warm embrace of _his_ angel's arms, feeling alive. Warm. And free. Finally. "No, angel. Never."

Aziraphale nodded and took his hand, without any previous long-lived hesitation, without doubt. "Let's go then."

And they did.

Lower Tadfield has still been full of Love. Too bad demons can't feel it.

But, weaved with someone's plump fingers, glued together from pieces, carved and sculptured, _handmade_ , there is Another One. Maybe still small, but ready to be snatched, to be cherished, as a precious collectible. One of a kind. Corporeal, tangible, _material_. And material...

Oh, material demons can _see_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! English is not my native language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or awkward things you found. I'm also very new with posting on archive, so mostly I have no idea what I'm doing and how~


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